


Why Do I Make You Cry

by VixxFixxion



Category: Byeolbit, STARLIGHT - Fandom, VIXX, byulbit
Genre: Consent, Denial, Fellatio, Friends to Lovers, M/M, NSFW, Orgasm, PWP, Secret Longing, Smut, Unrequited Love, Unrequited attraction, blowjob, bratty dom behaviour, climax, not so secret longing, pretending not to be longing, ruined orgasm, suggestion of powerplay, suggestion of revenge sex, ultimatum, why is wonsik such a dumbass about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:48:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28655214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VixxFixxion/pseuds/VixxFixxion
Summary: Taekwoon never crossed the line, but when he's done with letting Wonsik off the hook all the time, his inner punisher comes to the foreIt isn't that Taekwoon is trying to hurt Wonsik, it's just that he's finally playing tit for tat after always taking tat
Relationships: LeoVi, VIXX LR - Relationship, ravioli - Relationship, wontaek - Relationship
Comments: 10
Kudos: 24





	Why Do I Make You Cry

**Author's Note:**

> this took so long - started mid year 2020 i think. i can see where it i want it to be better, but i can't labour over it any more. i hope it satisfies in some way
> 
> please do leave comments, i love them - and a share or retweet is always appreciated
> 
> also please check out my other fics, i seem to specialise in RestraintRestraintAvoidanceSecretLongingSuddenRevelationRABIDSEX
> 
> am on twitter and while am not often on, i will reply @vfixxion
> 
> thank you for reading!

Wonsik came off the stage feeling a little overwhelmed. He knew Taekwoon would cry, he knew it.

He just didn’t expect that Taekwoon would lean into him, trembling, and sob into his shoulder. He was going to just give him a quick squeeze, but he held on, just a few moments longer. He thought it was funny that for the first time, Taekwoon wasn’t wheedling him for hugs - but rather it was Wonsik, of his own volition, who felt he had to hold him for a little longer.

The moment turned into something else, and Wonsik found himself pulling Taekwoon in closer, wrapping his arms completely around him and feeling his body rest against his chest, his sobs wracking his body and settling him closer against him. Then it was over, and they were laughing about it and finishing the set.

Wonsik was going to wait for Taekwoon to come off stage, but he started singing more songs, and it felt a little silly hanging around - after all, he had already announced onstage that he was leaving.

So he nodded to Daetuck and they gathered their things, and he let himself be ushered out into the waiting car, to head back to the studio.

It made him think of the times when they could barely look at each other, when he was pissed because Taekwoon was pulling rank and age on him during their arguments, and forcing him to shut up and acquiesce to something or other. Wonsik could smile about it now, but he always felt so irritated that Taekwoon would resort to that in the end. So many times, Taekwoon had ended up being right, because he really did know better anyway. He could see now, that he had been a brat sometimes, just being contrary because it was Taekwoon and he simply hated that Taekwoon got the better of him.

Talking over Taekwoon was something Wonsik fell back on because he knew Taekwoon couldn’t argue with his spitfire tongue.

Or wouldn’t.

It took him a while to notice that Taekwoon had changed tack at some point, and was no longer reacting to him in the same way. It was Wonsik who was still stuck in that dynamic, and it irked him to realise Taekwoon was no longer playing. Wonsik saw that it was he who had become the annoying, wheedling one who wouldn’t let things go.

When Wonsik had finally twigged that Taekwoon was no longer falling for his baited barbs, he realised that he had been playing some game he thought he was winning. He had thought that Taekwoon was laying low and letting Wonsik gambol and take the lead - when in fact, he was leaving Wonsik to play alone in his childish sandbox.

Wonsik was always so resistant to Taekwoon’s suggestions, and provokable.

_What a little shit I was_ , he thought.

He thought of Taekwoon as the youngest child in his family, and despite how jarring it sometimes seemed, he felt that it suited Taekwoon to be coddled and adored - just that noone was willing anymore, not even Hakyeon, who nowadays had a sense of decorum that was hard to breach when it came to how he interacted with Taekwoon.

Personally, Wonsik simply got peeved when Taekwoon laid on the asking for it on too thick.

Which led him to a subsequent thought: that if Taekwoon didn’t demand so much attention - or rather, if he didn’t ask for it in that manner of his - perhaps Wonsik felt he might be more inclined to initiate friendly advances himself.

Because he genuinely liked Taekwoon. And he liked lavishing attention on people that he liked. And because he disliked pandering to Taekwoon on his cue, he felt that dealing with him was unnecessarily difficult, because he was constantly having to curb his own natural desire to lavish.

He just didn’t want to be prompted to give that attention. He wanted to be the one who initiated the giving of it. He didn’t know why, he was just built like that. Which meant that, he never showed how much he liked Taekwoon because Taekwoon always seemed to be insisting on getting his share of affection, straight off the bat.

It made Wonsik a responder, not an initiator. He didn’t like feeling like Taekwoon had had to ask for it, for complicated reasons.

Like when Taekwoon would compare himself to Jaehwan and whine about not getting the same kind of attention from him as Jaehwan did.

Wonsik scoffed. It was so clear and simple.

Jaehwan didn’t really ask for that attention in the same way, he wasn’t expecting it in the same way - which allowed Wonsik to reach for him.

But Taekwoon demanded, petulantly and without any shame, that he get the attention he wanted. Wonsik’s lip curled just thinking about it. Responding to that kind of ask made Wonsik feel that any genuine feeling of his was undermined, or became fake because it appeared to be a response for the sake of the camera, for the sake of it being expected.

He didn’t like to feel obliged. He didn't like being made to look like he hadn't thought of something first.

“Your love is conditional,” Taekwoon would say to him. And then Hakyeon would say the same. And he would nod and say yes it was, because it was Taekwoon.

One day Hakyeon had pulled him aside and had, quite stridently, told Wonsik to stop being so cruel.

“Me?!” he had exclaimed, thoroughly taken aback.

“It looks like it doesn’t matter to him, but I can’t bear to watch it any longer. Even if they are in jest, you never stop at one barb, you just keep going and then ignore him so hearlessly. Stop it.”

Wonsik had brushed it off, saying that if Taekwoon had a problem with him, he should say it himself. Unless he did, then this was just Hakyeon meddling.

But, he did end up toning it down. Maybe it was diverging schedules, maybe they were just growing out of it. Maybe it was how Taekwoon had changed. Or perhaps that Taekwoon seemed to stop engaging too much with him. Until now, Wonsik had sensed that he had felt a kind of peace between them that he liked. A distance. They grew at a parallel, always within arm’s reach, but never really reaching for each other.

That is, until the night before he left for his enlistment, when he burst into tears on stage, and Wonsik held him close - because he had _wanted_ to.

His emotion was so raw, so hard. But he wasn’t asking for comfort from Wonsik, he was just feeling. And when Wonsik had come to him, there was an acknowledgement of him, but no demand.

Without a second thought, Wonsik had instinctively reached for him and held him, a desire to comfort coming unbidden and raw - though he found no words, only soft coos and whispers that meant nothing, couldn’t even be heard. It was just an attempt to give solace, and let him feel his emotions.

And then he had finally left the stage, and Taekwoon had carried on just fine.

And then he had found himself waiting for no reason in the back, had felt something, some twinge. An emptiness, but not quite.

Now, arriving at his studio with Daetuck all quiet and sombre and wanting to get some sleep, Wonsik sensed the night becoming wistful and lonely, the bright lights of the studio common area accentuating the wakefulness that would usually inspire him to work - something he usually did to stave off the depressing nature of the empty quiet of the night.

Now, he wanted company, yet Daetuck was already shuffling away to avoid his usual invitation to stay and hang out.

“Shikkie, I am going home to sleep!” he muttered as he jangled his car keys and walked back towards the door.

“Where is everyone?” Wonsik asked in vain, knowing that it wouldn’t bring anyone to him for asking.

“Don’t care. Night!” Daetuck was out the door, and it shut softly behind him.

Wonsik looked at the door to his studio. He couldn’t work. He wanted to sit and drink, or have someone in the next room, just for proximity. He wanted company, but not really to talk, not really for work. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his list, eventually finding Taekwoon’s number and wondering if the fanmeeting was over yet.

It must be by now, but Taekwoon had to report for his enlistment first thing in the morning, and he surely would be going straight home.

Wonsik sighed. The night seemed to be over, and he just had to accept it. He just didn’t know why he was feeling this sudden ennui, especially when he always had something more to do at work.

He shrugged off his jacket as he dawdled slowly to his studio.He didn’t need the sanctuary of a private bedroom - the wide and flat couch was all the mattress and comfort he wanted for a good night’s sleep. Even less so tonight, when he felt he might not even get to do the sleeping.

As he flipped off his sneakers and nudged them into a corner out of the way, he dropped his jacket on a chair and shut the studio door. He loosened his belt and pulled a folded blanket from inside a huge lidded basket that his mother had insisted he take “For the sake of fucking hygiene, son!” - shaking it out as he looked expectantly at his phone screen.

He lay down and texted Taekwoon. He couldn’t help feeling generous with feeling for him, but not wanting to gush.

_Hyung. Thank you for letting me be there with you tonight. It was a special moment, even though I can see you any time I want during your enlistment and you’re not really leaving._

He paused, wondering why he felt there was something he needed to say that he was leaving unsaid. There was nothing else, he guessed, except to wish him luck - but he felt silly for doing that. Taekwoon’s enlistment was such that he could live in his own home and was free to spend his time as he wished after work, much like a firefighter or office clerk would be free to go home after their shift.

Even his basic training was in the city outskirts, and he could go home for a meal and rest just like any other working person. Except that as an idol, he could no longer indulge in behaviour that called unnecessary attention to himself during his duty, nor receive earnings outside of his regular pay.

He resisted ending the text with a good luck wish and encouragement, and sent it off as it was.

He got comfortable, as comfortable as he could, still in his jeans and windcheater, and shook out the blanket over his legs.

He lay back, knowing that he might possibly end up getting up and tinkering on his equipment if sleeplessness overtook him, especially with his mind half on what had happened on stage, and half on feeling like he had a whole night to spend, with no one to keep him company, or to listen to unknown and unspoken thoughts he felt he had floating around inside him.

To his surprise, he got a message, and he shifted out of his comfortable position to pick up his phone from off the floor.

It was from Taekwoon.

_I’m trying to sleep, stop trying to love me, Wonsik Ravi Bomb Shikkie-ya._

Ravi snorted and tossed the phone back onto the floor. He looked up at the ceiling and sighed.

Then he twisted to pick it back up, eventually sitting up. He supposed he couldn’t sleep now. He reread the text and smirked. Then he answered, a slow smile of amusement stretching his lips.

_Such a bothersome thought. How am I supposed to sleep now?_

He sent it off, then leaned back, waiting for Taekwoon to respond. He saw that he read it immediately, but then there was no response. Wonsik flipped through his phone as he waited, then went back to the chat to check it again after a few minutes.

Nothing.

He frowned. Taekwoon never left him on read. Usually, he was the one who did that to Taekwoon.

He sighed, giving in to his wakefulness, and went to his desk to turn on his computer.

**

A day or two later, Wonsik was at the old dorm in the early evening, helping Hyuk. Or rather, lounging on the huge couch, the only thing left besides the table, in the now empty living room.

“Why did they even hold on to this place for so long? Aren’t you lonely here?” he called out to the other room.

“They just waited out the lease. Everyone’s rooms were used for planning and storage. Even in our big room it felt like I was just being allowed to use the spare!” Hyuk said as he came out, lugging a huge rolling bag.

“I mean, staff were coming in early in the morning or late at night to get things they had left here. It began to feel like the company store room. I was like Harry Potter in the cupboard under the stairs.”

Hyuk straightened up and surveyed the stuff accumulating in the hallway beyond the living room.

“I don’t think I will miss it. It doesn’t feel warm anymore.”

Wonsik nodded. He was too busy when he officially moved out to miss being in the dorm. Being alone was one of his deepest pleasures, being unobliged to participate in things not of his own initiative.

Instead, watching Hyuk’s face look dispassionately at their old home made him feel a little happy for him, knowing that he was ready for whatever was coming for him.

Ready enough not to need to look back.

They heard the lock beeping as someone entered the passcode from outside, and the door opened to reveal their stylist, Nayeon, who wafted in and walked straight through without taking off her shoes, yelling a quick hello to Wonsik, who waved minutely from his slouch on the couch.

They were surprised to see the door swing open again before it closed, and Taekwoon, in a pair of loose, flapping basketball shorts and a gym shirt, come padding in after slipping off his sneakers in the hallway.

Wonsik was totally surprised, but Taekwoon barely looked at him. Instead, with eyes round with happiness, he went straight to Hyuk with a soft exclamation, catching him as he tried to turn away and cuddling him from behind and cooing at how manly he had become now that he was moving out. Hyuk, his smile benign and his expression a mask of patience, let himself be hugged and patted on the shoulders.

Taekwoon buried his face against the back of Hyuk’s meaty shoulder and inhaled.

“Ah, I’m so proud of you Hyoggie!” he said, sounding satisfied and content.

Wonsik stared, noting once again how similar in posture Taekwoon and Sanghyuk were, how they held themselves the same way - just that Taekwoon was wiry and bony, and Sanghyuk was solid and heavy. They both had a slouch to them that was expressed differently: Taekwoon’s like a softly coiled gentleness, whilst Hyuk’s like a languid, latent hulkiness.

They both looked like little question marks standing in the room like that, and Wonsik watched as Taekwoon laid his cheek against Hyuk’s broad back and let his eyes flutter shut, as if he were basking in the warmth of his own affectionate pleasure.

Then, he opened them and looked straight at Wonsik, that pleased, contented smile making his usually angular features soft and open. If he was surprised that he was watching, he didn’t show it, just stared back at Wonsik as if hugging Hyuk were a delight he didn’t mind another partaking in.

Wonsik was taken by surprise, and having Taekwoon look at him without any selfconsciousness as he was obviously enjoying his moment, felt a little too much. He looked away, then rolled his eyes and waved a fussy hand at them.

“Hyung, let him go, it’s making me uncomfortable,” he drawled. Taekwoon made a soft noise of protest, which Wonsik couldn’t help noting was very cute - something he found surprised him.

“It’s alright Ravi Hyung, we have an agreement,” Hyuk looked sideways at him with mirth in his eyes.

“Do I want to know?” Wonsik asked, feeling a creeping suspicion that he had spent too much time away from the boys and wasn’t in the know about their shifting dynamics anymore.

“He lets me pay for these hugs with advice about composing,” Taekwoon said, smugly.

Wonsik guffawed, his laugh coming out hearty and rich, genuinely entertained by the completely one-sided scenario - supposedly in favour of Hyuk but actually just completely burdensome to him. Taekwoon paying Hyuk for hugs, with advice. Hyuk laughed along with him, something like hopelessness in his eyes along with the amusement.

“It SOUNDS like he’s paying for it, but that is not the case,” Hyuk exclaimed, as if trying to explain away a terribly embarrassing situation.

Taekwoon didn’t mind any of it, instead he snuggled closer, letting his nose draw circles in Hyuk’s back - and for a moment Wonsik was reminded of how Taekwoon had buried his face in his shoulder onstage that night, before lifting it to bawl unselfconsciously in his arms.

“I don’t feel dirty anymore, because I can see now, it’s therapy,” Hyuk managed to wheeze out through his giggles.

“For whom?” Wonsik asked, letting the horror show in his face before he started chuckling.

“He just loves it. Using me. Right, Hyoggie?” Taekwoon snuffled, then let his chin rest on Hyuk’s back as he gazed lovingly into the hair on the back of his head.

“Please don’t tell my parents about this,” Hyuk managed to say, before getting clapped hard on both his shoulders, a little extra love massage from Taekwoon.

Wonsik was delighted by the playfulness of the scenario, and felt like he hadn’t laughed hard with them in ages. He suddenly, reluctantly, thought that Taekwoon truly had a flair for comedic, deadpan cringe comedy.

Taekwoon disengaged with a flourish of letting Hyuk go, turning and rubbing his own tummy contentedly as he strutted over to join Wonsik on the couch. Hyuk made a show of walking timidly back into his room, which made Wonsik giggle a little more.

“He won’t let me do anything else, and it’s okay Shikkie, I haven’t tried,” Taekwoon said.

“I told him from the beginning I draw the line at sniffing my skin. No mouthing and no inappropriate noises,” Hyuk laughed from the bedroom.

Taekwoon groaned, as if it was too much, eliciting an accusing look from Wonsik. Then he grinned impishly at him, a naughty glint in his eye. It was a look that reminded Wonsik of another time, a time when they would exchange glances with each other behind Hakyeon’s back, each egging the other into laughing.

Wonsik shook his head, trying to look aghast at the liberties Taekwoon had taken right behind Hyuk’s back.

“You’ve been robbed, Hyuk-ah,” Wonsik yelled, sadly.

“The hugs are more than enough for me, Shikkie,” Taekwoon drawled. Wonsik looked at him in reproach. He felt a little like he had slipped, and allowed himself to be in cahoots with Taekwoon, and not on Hyuk’s side, as he would normally be.

“Stop,” he said.

Taekwoon let himself slide down into a slouch so that he was practically laying on the sofa, like Wonsik.

“You’re just jealous we have been hanging out without you,” he sniped.

Wonsik opened his mouth to retort, “No, I’m not” just as Taekwoon said the same, aping him exactly, down to the whine in his low voice. Wonsik felt that familiar irritation bubble up - not because Taekwoon was being petty, but because he had become predictable. To Taekwoon.

And if that were so, then really, it was Wonsik being petty.

Wonsik realised that he was just being contrary for the sake of it. Again.

“What are you doing here anyway?”

“I should ask you that. No need to hustle anymore?”

“I’m here to send off Hyukkie,” Wonsik said, airily.

“Uhuh,” Taekwoon murmured distractedly, looking at his watch.

“You in a rush, Hyung?” Wonsik felt inordinately peevish that he didn’t seem to have quite as much of a handle on this situation as he would have liked. He felt irritated, and not very clever.

“Nayeon Noona is selling me all our clothing samples for cheap. They need to get rid of some of it so I am shopping.”

“What? Why wasn’t I invited to this party?” Wonsik said loud enough for her to hear. He heard her scoff.

“It’s all the dreamy stuff, nothing you would want, Hip Hop Man,” she monotoned from the room.

“I look good in the dreamy stuff too,” Wonsik sulked.

When he got no response, he looked at Taekwoon, and was surprised again to find him watching him, just like he had been when he had Hyuk in his arms, just a calm sort of satisfied gazing.

“What?”

“Haven’t you got some girl waiting for you somewhere?”

Wonsik had to take a moment, feeling his face heating, although he wasn't quite sure why. They rarely ever discussed dating or relationships amongst themselves, if ever. He couldn’t help himself searching Taekwoon’s face for some indication of what the question was all about.

He wondered if Taekwoon was serious. It felt like a jibe.

“What kind of a question is that?”

Taekwoon smiled, a little crinkle at the corner of his mouth, not quite reaching his eyes.

“What are you really doing here, anyway? Hyukkie’s done, he doesn’t need any help from you.”

“What are _you_ doing here, Hyung? You’re supposed to be in training still.”

“I know you wake late, but the day is technically over, Shikkie-ya,” Taekwoon admonished, smoothing out his shorts over his thighs. “Nayeon Noona picked me up from training at the end of my shift.”

“I had to spread my scarf over the seat to stop him sticking to it, he was so sweaty!” Nayeon came waddling out of the back room with about twenty jackets and shirts still on their hangers in her arms.

“I was going to send you the dry cleaning bill but maybe I should fence it on the idol black market, what do you think?” Nayeon asked, breathless as she dumped the lot onto the couch. Taekwoon was up on his feet swiftly, his hands already rifling through the clothes. Wonsik realised Taekwoon was looking at these clothes for the first time since their promotions ended and everything was packed away.

“You mean you don’t even know which ones you want?” Wonsik asked, getting up too. “So these aren’t technically yours yet, are they, Hyung?”

He felt Taekwoon bristling, and had to laugh when he physically pushed Wonsik away from the clothes.

“Get in line, rich man!” he yelled, unnecessarily loud. Wonsik and Nayeon burst into laughter as they watched him put himself bodily between them and the items.

Taekwoon didn’t mind them, he stayed focused as he quickly flipped through the hangers, sliding the ones he wanted out from under the others till he had five or six tops hanging from his hand.

Wonsik sidled over to the other side of him, and casually took them out of his hand as if he were assisting him. Taekwoon spun on his heel, grabbing for them, but Wonsik stepped back, putting them behind his back with a giggle.

Taekwoon lunged right at him, both arms going round him to grab at his hands. Wonsik was so surprised by his vehemence that he lost his balance a little, and Taekwoon fell against him, chest to chest, so that he could peer over his shoulder at their hands. Wonsik tried to twist out of his grasp, but Taekwoon had hooked his ankle around Wonsik’s so that he couldn’t move, preventing him from tripping and losing his balance. He found himself well and truly caught in Taekwoon’s bodily hold.

Taekwoon wrested the clothes from Wonsik. Somehow, Taekwoon had managed to unbalance him without making him fall or hurting him, and even as he let him go, he made sure to hold his weight so that he wouldn’t lose his balance.

Wonsik glanced at Nayeon, a little taken aback by Taekwoon’s aggression. Taekwoon, suddenly selfconscious about his actions and breathlessness, spent a moment tidying the clothes on the hangers. Wonsik looked down at them, aware that Taekwoon was trying to control his breath.

“I spent a long time organising this day with Nayeonnie, you can just wait your turn,” Taekwoon said, and Wonsik could see that for some reason, he had pushed too hard, and Taekwoon’s mood had changed. It looked like embarrassment that he had overreacted, but he could tell it went deeper than that.

He didn’t know what to say, so he stared at Taekwoon’s slender hands as they fussed over the hangers in his grasp.

“Hey, those are our sweaters from the LR shoot,” he said, recognising the mustard yellow and the carmine sweaters they had both worn. When he reached for his, Taekwoon pulled them out of his reach.

“That one was mine, Hyung, I wore it,” Wonsik said, feeling proprietary, and pointing at it as if it made what he said any more true.

“I asked you about it and you said to dump it,” Nayeon said, looking at Wonsik with a look that said _don’t tell me you forgot_.

“When?”

“Straight after the shoot, back then” Nayeon replied.

“Whereas I told her to keep it, and now after all this time I am finally buying it,” Taekwoon said, sounding pissed.

Wonsik looked at the other stuff that Taekwoon hadn’t chosen.

“The only reason I am selling it is because some of it is going to a charity auction. Stuff that was sponsored for promo shoots. The money you give me will go there. I’ve already okayed it with the company,” Nayeon explained, starting to stack the clothes neatly into bundles, ready to be bagged and taken with her.

“You only want this because I’m already taking it,” Taekwoon said, obviously peeved.

Wonsik looked at Taekwoon incredulously. He suspected that he was right. But he scoffed at Taekwoon’s whining.

“Really, though, would you wear any of this stuff? I thought it wasn’t your style,” Takewoon said, taking his clothes off the hangers and folding them haphazardly. Wonsik heard Nayeon hiss through her teeth.

“Who taught you how to fold?” she practically shrieked.

“Sweaters shouldn’t be on hangers anyway,” Taekwoon hissed back at her.

“You’ll put a crease down the middle! You can’t Konmari this stuff Taekwoon Idol-nim!” she replied, her impatience getting the better of her. She waved him out of the way and started folding them herself. Taekwoon stepped aside.

“You two squabble like… ugh, I wish-“ but she stopped herself and pinched her lips into a thin line.

“What?” Taekwoon and Wonsik asked in tandem. She glanced at them both, leery.

“You're children,” she said, turning with a roll of her eyes. and gathering up the unwanted pile to take back inside.

Taekwoon quickly put his pile into a plastic bag and knotted the top, which made Wonsik roll his eyes again.

“I’m not going to steal them,” he said.

“Well, because you can’t, now that I have them secured,” Taekwoon stared straight at him. Wonsik gasped dramatically, hand to his chest. Taekwoon couldn’t help it, he broke into a grin. Despite the previous tension, Wonsik felt pleased that he could change Taekwoon's mood.

Nayeon came back out again, dusting off her hands as she chatted to him.

“Taekwoonnie-ssi, you don’t need to dry clean them before you give them away-“

“You’re giving them away?!” Wonsik shrieked, looking at Taekwoon as if he had peed on the rug. Taekwoon let his head fall back as he chuckled quietly.

“Yeah, he wanted gifts for his family and friends. Good choice, Taekwoon-ah. Okay, let’s go, I need to drop you home so I can be back for dinner. Bye Hyoggie!” she shouted towards the bedroom as she gathered up her handbag and coat.

As Hyuk ran out to give her a hug, Taekwoon hauled his bag into his arms. He cocked his head as he gave Wonsik the once-over. Wonsik frowned at him.

“Did your girl get you your perfume?”

“I don’t have a girl, Hyung, don’t you fucking know that?” Wonsik muttered, his jaw jutting.

Taekwoon smirked, then smiled. “It smells real nice,” he said as he gazed into Wonsik’s eyes, then turned and left, talking and laughing too loudly with Nayeon as they walked out.

Wonsik stared after him then looked at Hyuk, his mouth agape in indignant confusion.

“What the fuck was that all about?”

Hyuk smiled.

“It’s okay to be single, Hyung, don't let him get to you,” he drawled as he turned and went into his room.

Wonsik laughed in pure frustration, unable to think of anything to say, and not having anyone that would hear him say it.

**

The next weekend, Hyuk called him and gave him fifteen minutes to come downstairs as he was waiting in the car.

“What for?”

“You’re coming with me for our dinner with the others. I booked you ahead of time with Daetuckkie Hyung.”

Wonsik was unexpectedly pleased about the arrangement because Hyuk had thought of his time. He was downstairs sooner than that, and then they were cruising past the river and entering the carpark to a small eatery on the city outskirts in no time.

As they took the elevator up to the restaurant, Wonsik asked Hyuk what the occasion was.

“Jaehwannie Hyung wants to film us eating dinner with everyone together. He secretly wants to post it before they ask us to do one for the anniversary.”

Wonsik was impressed. “And is he allowed to show N and Leo who are away at their service?”

Hyuk shrugged. “They can appear I guess.”

They arrived at the tenth floor and the elevator opened out into a lobby that had large windows overlooking the streets below. Beyond, the city was aglow with amber and neon.

The place was new to him, and he followed as they were ushered into one of several spacious private rooms with floor to ceiling views of the city from across the river.

They were all there, Hongbin sitting next to Jaehwan and chatting amiably as Jaehwan set up his little camera at one end of the table. And there, sitting together and leaning against the wall, Hakyeon and Taekwoon bent over Hakyeon’s phone as he was scrolling through it, both of them speaking in hushed tones and making Wonsik wonder as to what they were talking about.

“We’re here!” Hyuk announced, prompting a yell from Jaehwan as Hongbin nodded to them both. Hakyeon suddenly laughed quietly, his eyes closing tight as he leaned his head back, and Wonsik noticed Taekwoon’s own laughter didn’t stop him from watching Hakyeon’s face in happiness.

As Jaehwan came round the table to give Wonsik and Hyuk a hug, Hakyeon finally opened his eyes as his laughter slowed, and he exclaimed with surprise.

“Oh! It’s Hyoggie and Shikkie!” he said, happy. Wonsik saw Taekwoon look from Hakyeon to them, and the laughter in his eyes fade away as he stared pointedly at Wonsik.

Wonsik was a little taken aback, feeling weirdly offended.

But Taekwoon’s eyes didn’t carry any mirth, nor reproach, nor judgment… in fact, if Wonsik didn’t know Taekwoon, he might have thought he was staring him down. A kind of drunken, belligerent stare.

But he knew Taekwoon, and Taekwoon was an irritating, over-reaching, mewling, whining bitch whose purpose seemed to be to try to vex Wonsik at every turn.

Well. Except when they were working together. Except when he was being professional. Except when he told Wonsik how much he respected him as an artist.

And except when he was bursting into tears because Wonsik had appeared unannounced on his stage.

Wonsik felt unsettled. He didn’t like that Taekwoon was on his mind this way, and didn’t like how he felt Taekwoon was somehow getting the better of him, instead of the other way round. He felt a little awkward, sitting down and feeling Taekwoon’s eyes boring into him.

They got down to dinner and before too long, the main course was over and Wonsik came out of it feeling like he had spent most of it trying not to be too aware of Taekwoon.

It irked him. What did he care what Taekwoon was doing?

Then, when dinner was just about over, Taekwoon handed him a bag across the table.

“What’s this?”

“Birthday present.”

“But it’s three months away.”

He opened it to find it was the sweater he had worn in that LR shoot. He looked up at Taekwoon in surprise.

“Taekwoon asked Nayeon Noona if he could buy it for your birthday,” Hakyeon beamed at him. “They went through a lot of trouble trying to do this in secret, but apparently you spoilt the surprise.”

Taekwoon almost glanced up at him as he sipped his tiny cup of tea. Wonsik suddenly realised he was staring at Taekwoon, as if he was pissed. As if somehow, Taekwoon had tricked him into feeling shitty.

"You didn't look surprised when you saw me there," he murmured, but only Taekwoon seemed to hear. Taekwoon looked taken aback, not expecting this response, obviously.

“Aww Hyung, if I had known you were going to give Shikkie a present this early I would have gotten one as well!” Jaehwan said, prompting Hongbin and Hyuk’s disbelieving protests.

Taekwoon swallowed his tea, muttering something about putting Wonsik out of his misery.

“Me?” Wonsik asked, surprised by this bit of information.

Taekwoon looked at him, looking surprised too, irritatingly.

“You didn’t know what I had bought it for, but I still felt like I couldn’t keep you in the dark about it any longer. It was eating me up, so I brought it tonight to give us both a break,” Taekwoon murmured, prompting a laugh from Hakyeon.

“Well, now you won’t have anything to give him on his actual birthday because you couldn’t wait that long to give it to him,” Hakyeon drawled, at which Taekwoon looked pointedly at Wonsik again. Wonsik was certain that there was some sort of defiance behind Taekwoon’s eyes, and it confused and aroused his curiosity at the same time. What was going on with him?

Wonsik looked down at the sweater, and realised he hadn’t yet thanked Taekwoon for it. It was, after all, something he had said he had wanted.

But now that it was in his hands, and now that Taekwoon was looking at him like that, he wasn’t sure why he had wanted it so bad in the first place.

**

Taekwoon shuffled in to work, used to the relative anonymity he had working in the back of his office, at his desk. His co-workers were either fresh trainees or seasoned civil service workers - and none of them had ever had much time for kpop. Surprisingly, most of them knew Wonsik from his variety show appearances, and Taekwoon often found himself holding his tongue when they started talking about him.

The urge to brag about knowing Ravi from this or that show was very, very strong. He had, after all, shared experiences with him that not even the other members could claim.

If it didn’t involve him bringing up his own celebrity status, he would have bragged harder than Hakyeon ever could. He was very proud of Wonsik - of his achievements and capabilities. He was also recently thinking about him a lot, and it was beginning to take a toll on his self-esteem - because he was also cognizant of the fact that Wonsik didn’t really seem to like him very much at all.

He felt his usual humour didn’t seem to get much of a reaction from Wonsik, and he sometimes caught him looking impatient, or worse, bored.

Taekwoon had gotten the feeling that Wonsik didn’t want to be around him anymore, and now the whole sweater fiasco had cemented his antipathy. He had always planned on giving him the sweater, and had approached Nayeon specifically to get it off her hands - which had lead to his charity shopping in the first place.

Bumping into Wonsik at the down had ruined the surprise of course but more importantly had alerted him to the fact that Wonsik seemed antagonised by his decision.

Why, was something that Taekwoon had come to believe was due to the fact that Wonsik’s new independence from them all had given him a freedom from their antics, from their idol-ness, from their little family - and he had seen Taekwoon’s buying up of their memories as some sort of attempt to own them, or him.

Taekwoon smirked. If Wonsik hadn’t thought of doing so in the first place, then perhaps he didn’t deserve the things he coveted anyway. Then he sighed. He really didn’t mean to think of Wonsik in such a miserly way.

He supposed everyone was maturing and becoming independent - and not just independent, but successful, all of them. It was something to be happy for, but Taekwoon was feeling increasingly homesick for another time and place that didn’t exist anymore - and he sensed that Wonsik didn’t want to be nostalgic for anything about the past.

Or maybe, their past.

Taekwoon paused, remembering a time when he was too awkward, too intense, only able to get on with Hakyeon, while most of the others played and gambolled around the dorm and around him. He didn’t realise it then, but he was happy. He would make food and put it on the table, and always found himself glancing at Wonsik to see if he liked it. While Wonsik seemed to perpetually be distracted by work or preparation, he used to lean against Taekwoon when he came to see what he was doing, munching solemnly on his snacks as he watched Taekwoon’s quiet cooking.

Taekwoon would let him as much as he could before shrugging him off to finish cooking and making him go get ready for dinner.

While all the younger members teased him for being so serious and conscientious, Wonsik was the first to lose interest fast and go study or prepare or compose.

When they were paired as a duo, Taekwoon felt like they could work well together - and they did. They spent so much time together, so comfortable discussing each other’s music, rehearsing and promoting, travelling in quiet together and eventually seeing each other as one half of themselves. Taekwoon felt their natural affection with each other seemed to blossom in their newfound respect, and in the space that was just theirs, Taekwoon felt relaxed and a little in love. In the sense that one is a little in love with how one feels when in the presence of another, perhaps - because Taekwoon didn’t act on it, didn’t think of it as a driving need to find a partner in Wonsik.

Perhaps he should have considered that Wonsik might have noticed it of him, even if he hardly noticed it of himself.

It had all come to a head when one day, after it was all over and they were back to promoting as a team, when Taekwoon realised that, once the others were back in the picture, Wonsik seemed to keep his distance, and almost seemed to be embarrassed by him.

Taekwoon had taken a while to realise it was happening, because of the distraction of work and the busy-ness of promoting. But when he finally realised that Wonsik whom he had thought had a mutual respect and affection for him was actually avoiding him, cutting him down, shrugging him off… he felt the sting of betrayal. Worse, he began to feel embarrassed about himself, thinking he was acting out of turn. Thinking that Wonsik had recognised there was something between them, and that he did not feel the camaraderie in the same way that Taekwoon did. This thought added to Taekwoon's mortification.

He had thought nothing of how comfortable they were with each other, until Wonsik began to react to him with a cold, smooth sort of disdain, where once he had looked on him with respect, if not love.

But Taekwoon was over it now, he had the distance of a few painful years to act as a buffer. After a while, he would find himself prodding at Wonsik, teasing him a little, with the intention of being absolutely embarrassing or irritating. Perhaps he was protecting himself, his feelings that were more sensitive than he let himself think he was. Eventually, he tired of it, and when he finally was able to look on Wonsik without that residual hurt, he found himself looking on a Wonsik who hadn’t seemed to mature in this matter in the same way he had matured as an artist and now company founder. Wonsik was still playing favourites, and Taekwoon didn’t know why.

Wonsik had always been geared to strike out on his own, but it seemed to Taekwoon that he was also impatient with their brotherhood, almost eager to leave what they had behind. For a couple of years now, he felt that he could never quite reach for that Wonsik that had become a confidante, a partner, a co-conspirator, for that short time that they were a duo.

That Wonsik seemed lost to him now.

Which was partly why he had burst into tears to find that it was Wonsik onstage that night, not Hyuk, or Hongbin or Jaehwan. Hakyeon, of course, was already away at the military.

He told himself partly because he realised that bursting into tears over Wonsik was something about himself that he didn't expect. How deep was his hurt, really?

Taekwoon felt a message come in on his phone and pulled it out of his pocket to check it.

It was a message from Nayeon asking if Wonsik had ended up being surprised. He answered, a little despondently, that Wonsik seemed quite irritated, and that he felt like Wonsik thought he had given it to him out of spite, or out of obligation, even though Hakyeon had explained it was his plan all along.

Nayeon responded with a shrug emoji. They were used to Wonsik’s indifference and non-reactions - most of the members and staff took it as a form of sarcasm or wilfully ignoring someone for effect, or just a way Wonsik had of dealing with things he didn’t want to deal with. Not giving more meaning to something than he wanted to, by unnecessarily acknowledging it.

Taekwoon never really used to take it personally, since he knew he often gave off those vibes himself in the past - perhaps with even less humour. Except now, it mattered a little more, because now, Taekwoon wanted to know if Wonsik ever really liked him, even as a person. A friend.

Ever since that night when he had cried on stage and Wonsik had held him tight, letting him sob into the crook of his shoulder, Taekwoon had sensed that into the usual distance between them had come some antagonism - and he wasn’t sure why, but he was certain Wonsik held Taekwoon responsible for it. Or for something.

He checked his chat thread with Wonsik. He had sent his loose and flirty message, knowing that Wonsik would just read it as his slightly loopy Hyung’s way of speaking. Taekwoon always liked to be a little lush when he talked to the boys, and he enjoyed getting a little rise out of Wonsik whenever he did.

But then Wonsik had come back with _How am I supposed to sleep now?_ and even though Taekwoon knew he was joking about being disgusted, the word sleep in association with Wonsik had made his skin warm, and his body flush.

At that moment, Taekwoon was certain that Wonsik was flirting with him. How could he have not been aware of the innuendo in those words. It was so unlike Wonsik to say soemthing like that to him - but then so was him walking on stage all of a sudden in support of him. So was him taking him in his arms unbidden, to comfort him as he cried, hard.

Taekwoon had stared at the words, and suddenly imagined Wonsik in bed, his form draped with cool sheets, his body lax and warm, his skin like caramel.

_How am I supposed to sleep now?_

_I could help you sleep,_ he had thought, and immediately had cringed at himself, pulling back from his reverie with a harshness that had hurt.

Thinking that thought made Taekwoon realise that it was the first time he had articulated in words, albeit in his head, how he was attracted to Wonsik, how he may have always been and might have realised sooner, if he had known himself well enough, that it was attraction and not just admiration or awe.

It was a little scary, like realising that about himself, was too close to revealing himself - and he was afraid that he could really reveal himself with just a look.

Thinking of having Wonsik in his bed made him wonder how would he be able to even look him in the eye? He was sure he wouldn’t be able to hide that he had thought those thoughts.

Well, at dinner after that, he _had_ looked Wonsik in the eye, and he was surprised to find himself looking at him rather defiantly, as if the bravado would save him from his own embarrassment - or at least hide any semblance of desire in his gaze.

And there was some bravado in him. Accepting that he was attracted to Wonsik all over again after that stage was also like a wake-up call. Wonsik never seemed to relax or enjoy his company when they were casual. They only had chemistry when they were working hard together, or performing together. Other than that, Taekwoon was aware that maybe, Wonsik didn’t like him like that, didn’t even respect him much, or worse, could even be embarrassed by him.

It hurt to think of it.

At dinner, Wonsik had seemed distracted, maybe perturbed. He could barely bring himself to thank him for the gift.But, while he did feel a twinge of disappointment that Wonsik didn’t respond enthusiastically to it, Taekwoon accepted with a sort of resignation that his attraction to Wonsik was to go unrequited - as he realised now it had always been. He wished he hadn’t realised it so late - but wasn’t about to push his own agenda and in the process become something loathsome to Wonsik. He still had his self-respect.

The effort Taekwoon had made to make sure that the precious memory they had as a sub-unit would be preserved - with mementos that only they would have - had been a long and tedious process, what with Nayeon and himself being busy. They were precious memories.

And whilst Wonsik sometimes seemed to regard him with the disdain of a teen looking on a boring adult, Taekwoon felt that he and Wonsik had shared some remarkable experiences together, and had worked hard together. Had achieved a lot together.

Taekwoon felt himself getting a little emotional as he stared at Wonsik’s unanswered question on his phone. He had left him on read for almost a week now.

He didn’t like thinking of Wonsik in this secretive way. He also felt unsettled by how Wonsik seemed so put out by him, his presence.

Taekwoon was reticent, but he wasn’t shy of these things. He also knew that Wonsik wouldn’t make any necessary first move to air out their differences - if this is what it was.

Taekwoon was self-aware and confident enough to understand that his attraction, and their history together, did not equal some sort of hold over Wonsik. But he did expect some respect - and he wanted to know why Wonsik couldn’t quite give it to him.

So he finally answered his message.

_About not being able to sleep - can we talk?_

**

Wonsik woke up late, as usual, and he lay on his sofa bed staring at the tiny window above the console of his studio - so he didn’t check his phone til just before four in the afternoon, which is when he saw Taekwoon’s message. He answered immediately.

_Working on something. I can see you tonight if you’re free. Otherwise can you come to the studio tomorrow during lunch?_

Wonsik dropped his phone onto the bed and went to get washed up. When he returned, he saw another message.

_Decided to chance finding you at work. Already on the way._

Wonsik was intrigued. What did Taekwoon need to talk about so urgently?

_If it’s about the sweater, I have already worn it once. It was a real nice present, Hyung._

Wonsik had felt bad about not responding graciously to Taekwoon’s present, which, if he didn’t always put himself in such an irritable mood every time he saw Taekwoon, he might have been able to express his gratitude on the spot - so he meant it when he said it was a nice present. He realised it felt like too little, too late.

He also didn’t want to have Taekwoon determine they would be meeting now, without him having a say in it.

_Not about the sweater. Something has been on my mind. Let me in._

Wonsik gasped as the doorbell chimed, and jumped up to go to the wall panel in the common area where he could see who was at the door. Sure enough, there in the doorcam was Taekwoon’s skinny frame, his office clothes under a lightweight trenchcoat which was a navy blue, the collar turned up. With his captain’s hat he looked like a mariner, and it seemed very Taekwoon-ish to be dressed mildly dramatic like this.

He pressed a button to talk, feeling impish.

“Who is it?”

**

Taekwoon squinted into the cam lens. He was not in the mood to pretend to be anything, let alone be patient with this sort of teasing. It was prolonging something that he wanted to see the end of, to clear up right away.

He leaned into the panel, his voice low and conspirational as he peered sombrely into the lens.

“You sure you want to hear it over the intercom?” he drawled.

He heard a pause on the other side, then the door buzzed open, and he walked in.

He had visited a couple of times with others, and was familiar enough to know that once he entered the common work area, Wonsik’s studio was at the far end of the open space. As he walked in, he saw Wonsik across the room, and was surprised to find the place was empty.

“They’re all at a photoshoot,” Wonsik said, as he turned to go into his studio.

Taekwoon shucked off his shoes at the mat in the entry and shrugged off his coat, pulling off his cap to fold it neatly into his pocket. He was surprised that he had been let in immediately, especially since there was noone there, making his mysterious joke of a threat over the intercom not the threat he had thought it would be.

Wonsik could have forced him to speak through the door cam, but he hadn’t. He supposed he realised that Taekwoon wasn’t here to play games, and dropped the teasing immediately.

He crossed to the room as Wonsik disappeared into it. The room was stuffy from having been shut all day it seemed, and he saw bedding on the sofa and realised Wonsik must have slept there and only just woken up.

He inhaled gently as he walked in, taking in the warm, still smell of sleep and body.

He felt engulfed by this atmosphere of Wonsik, and it was comforting to say the least. It wasn’t about the physicality of it, but the intimacy. It felt like he had stepped into something that was home - it reminded him of that unnameable place that he missed, that he was homesick for.

Wonsik gestured for him to sit.

He watched Wonsik as he slouched back into the sofa as well, running his hands over his face to rub the rest of the sleep away. He was still soft and lazy from sleep, his body heavy as he took several deep breaths to wake up. Taekwoon turned a little to face him as Wonsik finally spoke.

“What’s the big question, Hyung?” he murmured through a yawn.

“Did you like my present, Shikkie?”

“Yeah, sure. It was a nice thought, Hyung.”

Taekwoon frowned, and was sure he was squinting at Wonsik, feeling utterly dissatisfied with the answer he gave him. He didn't know why, but he suddenly felt combative.

“Did you actually want it, after all?”

Wonsik turned to look at him, his expression pointed, calm. 

“What is this about, Hyung?”

Taekwoon gazed back into Wonsik’s eyes, calm too. Wonsik was obviously trying very hard not to show that the gift meant anything to him, which peeved Taekwoon because even at their very strained moments, they had always at least been civil to each other.

“You seemed unhappy about getting it - was it because you got embarrassed because it turned out to be a gift for you after making such a fuss about it?” Taekwoon said, in a slow, steady voice.

“A gift that you had planned for quite a while since you bought it weeks before my actual birthday,” Wonsik replied.

Taekwoon nodded. “So you do understand what effort I made.”

“Should I make a post about it on my page?” Wonsik said, his words irritating Taekwoon sharply. The sarcasm was bad enough - but Taekwoon couldn’t understand why Wonsik was so contrary about it all in the first place.

“Yeah, make a post about it on your page.”

Taekwoon stared at Wonsik, waiting to see how he would respond.

Wonsik’s chin jutted for a moment, then he averted his eyes. Taekwoon suddenly didn’t want him to come up with some sort of response, because he was afraid it was going to go too far. So before Wonsik could say anything, he wanted to get back to why he was here.

Ah. Yes. Why Wonsik couldn’t sleep - and why he would have said so to Taekwoon.

“I wanted to thank you for being there for me that night. I was surprised, but it was good to have you there. But since then, I don’t know what is going on between us. You might be mad because you think I tricked you about the whole sweater thing-“

“I know I blew the surprise-“ Wonsik tried to wave his explanation away.

“But it isn’t just that. It’s all sorts of things. You seem irritated by me. Bored. Angry. I don’t know, it all comes out as some form of dislike anyway. If I have done something wrong, I would like to apologise. Maybe I can make it right. But you need to tell me what it is, because I don’t know. I can only think if it isn't about that night, then it is about the sweater. ”

Taekwoon watched as Wonsik’s expression changed slowly from shock to awkwardness, and he realised that he had exposed Wonsik, that what he had said was true. Wonsik didn’t have enough guile to disguise it, and Taekwoon also realised it was a sore point for him.

Seeing Wonsik’s growing concern about how his behaviour had been hurting him made Taekwoon think that there was some deeper reason for Wonsik’s moodiness than he had thought. It made him think that maybe Wonsik believed that Taekwoon had wronged him knowingly instead. Or, there was some other reason for his behaviour that Taekwoon simply didn’t know about.

“I… I wasn’t trying to be rude-“ Wonsik intoned, his eyes darting to the console, avoiding Taekwoon’s stare.

“You were, though. But it’s not even that. It’s… you dislike me. And not just from that night. From before. It's just that it turned extra sour after that.”

Taekwoon said nothing else, letting Wonsik squirm in the silence that followed his statement, squirm under the weight of its simple, obvious truth.

He turned so that he was leaning back against the sofa like Wonsik, and stared at the console with him.

They sat there in silence, and Taekwoon realised that Wonsik was not going to respond, even in a polite gesture of denial, something which made him a little sad. He was here for clarity, not just for an apology, or to be right. He thought he got what he came here for, but Wonsik being reluctant to offer any response for his behaviour was leaving things unsettled, not really for him, but for Wonsik.

He was hoping that Wonsik would drop whatever it was that he had put up between them, try to reach him, try to explain. Maybe he was distracted and busy, Taekwoon could well understand that - but he didn’t even need an explanation. He just wanted to be able to go back to being friends again and this was what was required - but it was up to Wonsik to open that door.

Taekwoon looked down at his hand in his lap, knowing that all that was left for him now was to leave, really. He didn’t want to reach for Wonsik, didn’t want to try to make him feel better, or try to rationalise the situation for him. He felt that Wonsik’s attitude was immature, and much as he wished he could hold it against him, Taekwoon simply felt disheartened that Wonsik was not ready to own up to himself. To step up to acknowledging his behaviour.

Taekwoon waited just a little longer, pursing his lips into a pucker as he suddenly felt a rush of disappointment go through him.

It took him by surprise, because he felt tears threaten to well in his eyes - and also because just a moment ago he thought he had felt so little about it.

He knew he should leave. Wonsik wasn’t moving, and he suddenly felt he didn’t want to waste his time trying to get him to meet halfway.

“Okay, then, I guess I should go,” he murmured, shifting forward to get up.

“Hyung, wait,” Wonsik said, grasping his hand to stop him from standing.

“I know you’re not one for platitudes, but even _that_ was too hard for you?”

Taekwoon looked at him, his face as devoid of emotion as he could make it. He didn’t want to spark some reaction in Wonsik if he saw some form of judgment or emotion in his face. He wanted him to say his piece.

Wonsik, suddenly faced with Taekwoon’s quiet anticipation, now found himself obligated to say what he had stopped Taekwoon from leaving for. He let go of Taekwoon slowly, realising that he was looking at him with the kind of blank fear a child would have when their teacher just threatened to withhold their privileges in school.

It made him think that perhaps he actually believed he was about to lose some privileges.

And the look on Taekwoon’s face…

He hadn’t ever really seen Taekwoon look at him like that, a little disinterested, a little cold. Polite. Patient - but done.

Wonsik could see that Taekwoon felt that he owed him an explanation - and for the first time in a long time, Wonsik didn’t feel offended by that expectation. Instead he felt relief that Taekwoon was waiting, giving him time to speak.

“I… You’re right, Hyung. I’m sorry I have been rude to you. I don’t know when-“

“I know when.”

“I-I haven’t seen you often enough-“

“Even less reason to be obviously pissed at my shitty gift. I guess that would seem like a bit of slap in the face to you but I did explain myself, and Nayeon did too. And I honestly thought it was a great present which took a lot of preparation to get.”

“I should have said thank you. Thank you, Hyung. Sincerely.”

Taekwoon paused to look carefully at Wonsik for any traces of sarcasm, but Wonsik seemed genuine enough. Much as he recognised Wonsik’s sincerity in his apology, he wasn’t after sorries. He wanted to know why.

But he also didn’t think he should have to work to get that out of him, as he would have in the past.

And Wonsik had yet to refute his suggestion that he disliked Taekwoon.

Taekwoon felt he deserved better treatment from Wonsik.

He suddenly stood, going to the door to step into his shoes. He could hear Wonsik scrabbling to stand in surprise.

“You’re going?”

“Yes.”

“I… I really am sorry, Hyung, I apologise.”

Taekwoon looked at Wonsik, wanting to reciprocate the sincerity he heard in his voice, but knowing that Wonsik had no idea what he was really apologising for. He thought he was apologising for not saying thank you, but Taekwoon wasn't going to expend any more energy on trying to explain.

“Thank you, Wonsik, I accept your apology. I hope you enjoy the gift, you’re really, sincerely welcome to it,” he said, courteously and slowly.

He could see that Wonsik wanted for the conversation not to end this way - friendly enough, but frighteningly formal. He could see that he was struggling, but realised that he wasn’t ready for the conversation Taekwoon was holding himself back from starting.

Wonsik could not see what needed to be done, could not see what Taekwoon wanted from him. Either he was an obstinate idiot, resistant to admitting fault or defeat in some imaginary battle he thought they were engaging in - or completely blind to human emotion and therefore unable to fathom what he thought Taekwoon needed from him right now.

And Taekwoon didn’t really need anything from Wonsik - something he realised as soon as he got up to leave. Taekwoon was fine. It was Wonsik who had to work things through, and Taekwoon wasn’t going to try to drag him up to speed. Not today.

Perhaps because it hurt too much to always be that person in their dynamic by default, or perhaps because it had no power over Taekwoon anymore: he could deal, and he learned today that Wonsik couldn’t.

“Whenever you feel like talking, just let me know. I won’t bother you unless it’s work,” he said, not looking back as he made his way out fo the room. He could hear Wonsik padding after him.

“You don’t bother me,” he heard him say, his voice unusually forceless.

Taekwoon could hear that Wonsik realised that it sounded like a lie. He stopped to turn back with a smirk on his face.

“There’s a connection here, and you hate it, Shikkie,” he said, gesturing to the space between them, suddenly able to say it without worry. It no longer hurt to Taekwoon to think that Wonsik wanted to avoid acknowledging that something was going on between them. He had realised that Wonsik was simply not ready to process things. And Taekwoon wasn’t one to push someone for anything, not really.

He saw Wonsik’s eyes widen momentarily, then soften into concern.

“I don’t hate you, Hyung,” he murmured, looking hurt. A little affronted.

Taekwoon felt that Wonsik didn’t have the right to feel affronted, that he was being let off the hook for being unnecessarily emotionally oafish. He decided to speak plainly about their relationship, something that he always avoided with Wonsik because it seemed to be a sensitive issue.

“I know that. But you won’t let me reach for you and you won’t meet me halfway. On anything. Like you want first dibs on everything and you hate being-“

Taekwoon blinked, realising that maybe this was the issue.Wonsik hated being led.

But he wouldn’t act first, either. And Taekwoon was sure that there was something between them that went beyond their professional, working chemistry.

He realised that his caginess often turned the meaning of Taekwoon’s genuine affections into something sordid, unwanted. He knew Wonsik had made a schtick out of preferring to lavish attention on Jaehwan over all his Hyungs, but Taekwoon could only laugh that off for so long - especially when Wonsik seemed to single out Taekwoon’s general behaviour as targeted towards him, and offensive for it.

He had thought that Wonsik had let down that barrier after comforting him on stage so wholly, not his usual standoffish shoulder patting, or silence. Perhaps now it was too obvious to ignore, but at the very least Wonsik could be civil, or let them get back to being close, good friends. After all, he had held him so warmly that night.

“You hate being forced into anything, and I get it. I didn’t think I was ever pushy, but whatever it was that I was doing, made you close off. That’s fine. I am sorry too, if I ever crossed the line.”

Taekwoon felt exhausted by the effort of trying to make it easy between them. He suddenly realised that, despite not wanting to have to work to get Wonsik to understand him, he had naturally fallen into doing so anyway - and didn’t that mean that it meant much more to him than he thought?

He felt exhausted by how easily he was slipping back into this, when he had already decided to make a clean cut.

“Anyway, if you decide you don’t want the sweater, that’s fine too, just pass it on, it’s yours to do whatever with now.”

He turned and waved his hand as he walked back towards the entrance.

“I’ll see myself out. I’ll text you on your birthday. Don’t be surprised.”

“Wait - we have dinner with Hyuk on Sunday - his new place,” Wonsik said, his voice plaintive.

Taekwoon kept walking, crossing the open common area to the front door.

“You saying I should be there?” he called as he got to the door and toed his shoes on.

Wonsik didn’t answer, so he turned to look at him in query. Wonsik looked so forlorn and stupid and uncomprehending - but Taekwoon believed that Wonsik, deep down inside, knew what was going on here.

He had no more patience for Wonsik’s seemingly deliberate misunderstanding of him. And, he had outgrown his need to explain or defend himself to Wonsik.

“You don’t have to answer now, you can let me know before then. If you figure it out, I’ll be there on the day,” he said, opening the door.

“It’s not up to me. And of course you should be there,” Wonsik said, as if Taekwoon was finding excuses not to come.

“It’s entirely up to you. You’re going to decide whether I should come to Hyoggie’s housewarming. My baby maknae dongsaeng Hyoggie, who invited me so warmly, and who means so much to me, and loves me so. You figure out why I think it would be better I don’t go, if you’re going to be there too.”

Taekwoon turned to leave, then looked back.

“Tell me by Friday so I can go present shopping if I do get to come.”

He turned and left - but not before he saw Wonsik’s expression change.

He smirked as he walked to his car. Wonsik didn’t want to feel beholden to Taekwoon, or to be the cause of Taekwoon’s absence at Hyuk’s gathering. He didn’t want to be obligated in any way. In order to get Taekwoon to be there, he had to articulate why Taekwoon thought it would be best they were not there at the same time - not even together, but just in the same shared, incidental space.

It meant that Wonsik would have to acknowledge that he treated Taekwoon differently - not because he always held him at arm’s length, but because after that night on stage, after his embrace and then that message, and now realising that Taekwoon was thinking of him all the time that he thought he was swiping out mementos and memories away from him, Wonsik seemed to actively be more antagonised.

Taekwoon realised that Wonsik might not ever want to admit to that, but being put on the spot like this and basically being forced into being responsible for Taekwoon’s absence would be anathema.

Taekwoon was sure Wonsik was struggling. Years of hurtful-but-not-quite sarcasm and disinterest, to admit to the source of it, and within a few days?

Taekwoon shook his head, a sad sigh escaping his lips.

He resigned himself to missing Hyuk’s housewarming, because he could see so very clearly.

Wonsik was in pain.

***

“Hyung, he’s being a pain,” Wonsik grumbled at his phone.

“If you feel so bad about it, you bow out so that he can go instead, and let your conscience be free,” Hakyeon drawled at the other end.

Wonsik was laying on his back, his legs up in the air, his phone balanced between his feet as he stared up into the camera. Hakyeon smirked at him as he lay in his bunkbed, his phone between his hands as he rested them on his chest.

“You and your double chin can go jump,” Wonsik intoned.

“You know I didn’t think I would have to wait til I enlisted to see you from this angle, Ravi-ya,” Hakyeon smirked and waggled his eyebrows.

“I could say the same, Hyung, but it’s not like my view is special.”

Hakyeon laughed, that familiar guffaw that ended neatly, the smile lingering in his eyes.

“What was the big deal anyway? You apologised to him for being a stupid buffoon, didn’t you? I mean, what’s wrong with him?”

Wonsik let his phone drop down, catching it deftly in his hands as he let his legs down to relax.

“Hyung-“

“If I know Taekwoon well, this isn’t about the sweater at all. It isn’t about the apology at all either.”

Wonsik righted his phone and gripped it in one hand as he turned onto his side to get more comfortable.

“He thinks I was insincere. I wasn’t sorry enough-“

“Unless he said that, I don’t believe it. It doesn’t make sense. Did you tell me the whole story? What else did he say?” Hakyeon peered at him suspiciously through the video call.

_There’s a connection here, and you hate it._

“Why would he give you an ultimatum suddenly? Why would it matter if you were both at Hyoggie’s housewarming?”

_You won’t let me reach for you and you won’t meet me halfway. You hate being-_

Wonsik had seen a moment of clarity stop Taekwoon from saying what he was going to say - and he felt himself grow agitated that he did not know what Taekwoon was thinking. Which was technically true.

He hated that Taekwoon was making some meaning in his head at that moment that had made him throw out that threat that he would not go to the party. Some meaning that was about him.

“If I was there I would have this sorted out before Friday. I would make you both friends again.”

Wonsik nodded. It was Hakyeon’s way to steamroll acquiescence and relent for the benefit of bygones being bygones.

“We would have gritted our teeth for the sake of the party, Hyung,” he murmured humourlessly as he gazed blankly out the studio window.

Hakyeon also adjusted the angle of his phone, as he seemed to cuddle it a little and whisper conspirationally to him.

“Would you like me to speak with him? Ask him why he is doing this?”

Wonsik shook his head. Speaking with Hakyeon hadn’t brought him any clarity. He felt more befuddled than before.

“He’ll know I called you,” he murmured.

“Is that what matters? This could be some silly Daegunnie joke or it could be your friendship on the line. How do you go past this if he cannot go to Hyoggie’s party?”

“Everyone will just think he was busy or forgot-“

“Not Taekwoonnie, that won’t fly. We're talking about Hyoggie.”

Wonsik pouted, sulking.

“Then I will just say we fought-“

“Taekwoon would turn up because of that, to spite you - dammit Shikkie do you even know him? It’s like a fucking lovers’ quarrel!”

Wonsik nodded, his face turning morose as he blinked at the window. 

_I don’t hate you._

Hakyeon was silent for a moment.

“It has to be something quite serious, Wonsik-ah. You better figure it out - even better, stop torturing yourself and just ask him.”

“But he set me a challenge-“

“Is this a school test?! Just get real, Shikkie, you do that all the time.”

“Get real?”

“Yeah. Tell him you don’t know what the answer is. But you want him to be there. And can he tell you please so you can both go.”

Wonsik frowned. “But then-“

“But then yes, that’s right, it would mean you weren’t clever enough to outwit him or even simply to answer correctly, yes, get real.”

Wonsik pouted, his eyes trained on the window. Hakyeon softened.

“There’s nothing wrong with not knowing. I swear, it’s like you think it’s a competition between you two, like who will be the first to admit…”

Wonsik sensed Hakyeon was realising something, and his eyes darted to the screen.

“What?” he asked softly.

Hakyeon sighed, his expression suddenly bland.

“There’s nothing to win, Shikkie. But a lot to lose. Just… he should be there too.”

Wonsik closed his eyes, sighing heavily. Hakyeon wasn’t the help he thought he was going to be.

***

Taekwoon opened his front door, not bothering to hide the surprise he felt. Wonsik stood outside, his hands in his pockets, and so glum an expression his mouth was pouty.

“You could have just called,” Taekwoon said, thinking that he sounded remarkably like Wonsik.

He turned to go in, expecting Wonsik to follow, but realised he was still waiting at the door. He turned back.

“What?” he asked, perplexed. Surely Wonsik didn’t need an invitation to come in.

“We really can’t be in the same room together?” Wonsik asked, his normally averted eyes boring into his, dull in their belligerence.

Taekwoon walked back to him, staring right back.

“Is that a trick question?”

“I don’t get it-“

“It seems clear to me.”

“We’re in the same space now, so why can’t we do this in Hyoggie’s house? We can sit apart or something if that’s what you want.”

“This isn’t science, Wonsik. You’re here to talk aren’t you? Why won’t you come in?”

Taekwoon was square on to Wonsik now, and they stared at each other over the threshold. Wonsik didn’t move.

“Why am I getting an ultimatum that affects Hyoggie’s housewarming?”

“Think of it as a clarifier, a drawing of lines,” Taekwoon murmured, thinking how obvious it was of Wonsik to think of this in its most basic of terms.

“What the hell for?” Wonsik’s impatience got the better of him and he raised his voice.

Taekwoon stood his ground, letting Wonsik glare at him.

Even in his annoyance, Taekwoon could see that Wonsik was still being gentle - his ire was due to a desire to understand, and frustration with Taekwoon’s seeming obstinacy and taciturn reluctance to just explain.

Taekwoon could appreciate that, at the very least, Wonsik wasn’t turning off, or letting the housewarming come and go without making an effort to resolve things. He could also see that they were not going to move forward without Taekwoon meeting him halfway.

He deliberated that which ever way this went, it could only go one way if Taekwoon didn’t do that: nowhere.

And since Taekwoon didn’t like closing off possibilities - as he knew Wonsik didn’t - then he couldn’t really wait for clarity to come to the man who was obviously clueless before him. At least, not before Friday.

He leaned against the wall as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“You treat me differently. from everyone else. Not just everyone else, but since the concert.”

Taekwoon watched as a growing blush burned across Wonsik’s cheeks. He knew for sure that somehow, Wonsik acknowledging this was something he definitely did not want to do - and that, perhaps, he hadn’t even done so for himself.

“Either you’re worried about how us talking about it will change things… or you’re ashamed to admit it. And if that’s the case, then it means you’re ashamed of me. Which explains why you’re always brushing me off. Not wanting to get to the point where you have to acknowledge it.”

He watched as a myriad of expressions passed over Wonsik’s mien, and realised that even now, even in this straightforward answer to his straightforward question, Wonsik couldn’t process it. Couldn’t admit to his feelings - nor make an outright denial to Taekwoon. Taekwoon realised again, that whatever was going on with Wonsik, whether it was pride or denial or some other reason, this was probably a very stressful or painful predicament for him.

Because he knew that Wonsik was the softest, gentlest of souls, and there could be only one reason that he had treatedTaekwoon the way he had.

Taekwoon blinked. Love. Or fear.

Taekwoon stood upright, sighing.

“That possibility is bad enough for me, but being ignored, pushed away by a friend… I think I have endured it for too long. I don’t deserve it, even just as a friend. That’s what I came to talk to you about at the studio, and maybe I was hoping that you might admit to feeling something more. Which I think you do, just like I do.”

Wonsik’s eyes darted up to his. Taekwoon gazed at him, wondering how he was able to speak to emotionlessly to him about it. Perhaps he felt that Wonsik needed this guidance more than Taekwoon wanted reciprocation. Perhaps, after so long, Taekwoon was finally over it.

“Or, like I did. I don’t know, now. It feels like it was never one-sided, but that I was the only one reaching. I am exhausted and over it.”

He gazed at Wonsik, seeing something in his eyes that signalled a desire to step forward, to reciprocate, but something that was held back tightly by some belief or quirk of nature that made Wonsik who he was. Taekwoon felt surprised by how cool he felt about it - really, by how cool he had been since leaving Wonsik at his office. Was he truly over it? Could he really say his piece without it being overwrought with emotion or expectation?

“I like you. I love you. As a friend, as a colleague. We have been through a lot together. And I don’t think I ever pushed my interest on you, ever. I didn’t do anything that Jaehwan or Hakyeonnie didn’t do, physically, emotionally. If the teasing got too much, you made it clear and I stopped. Maybe I was seeing things, but I thought you at least liked me too. But besides all of that, all of our past, I thought at least after that night you would feel easy around me, and not so… distrustful.”

Wonsik had bowed his head by this time, unable to meet Taekwoon’s eyes. Taekwoon felt himself able to speak freely, knowing that if things couldn’t be fixed even now, they would never be. So he might as well tell Wonsik the truth of it - for himself.

He believed that he didn’t feel angry or hurt, that he was beyond that. He was just speaking his mind. He had wanted Wonsik to take this step, to draw this out of him himself, but Taekwoon could see that he was not equipped to do that. Wonsik didn’t know why, and Taekwoon wondered if it was purely obstinacy on his part, a need to be on top of things, and not to be running to explain himself to Taekwoon.

That thought brought it home to Taekwoon that if Wonsik was not prepared to put his pride aside for him, then he wasn’t quite the man he had thought he was - or at least, not the man for him. Even now, they were having this private, intimate conversation in hushed tones over the threshold of his apartment, rather than in the comfort and seclusion of his home, because of Wonsik’s insistence that if he was going to reach, it would be on his terms, not Taekwoon’s.

And yet, he couldn’t see that he was willingly reaching anyway. After all, it was he who had turned up on Taekwoon’s doorstep.

“I won’t ask you if you feel the same, Shikkie. But this doesn’t let you off. I’m still not going to Hyuk’s unless you tell me why I should be there. Besides him being my most beloved maknae about to take a step towards independence that his most beloved hyung should be there to cheer him on for.”

Taekwoon huffed a smile at Wonsik, a twinkle in his eye. Wonsik glanced up, but there was no humour in his eyes, just the moodiness from feeling laughed at.

Taekwoon couldn’t help feeling flippant in the face of Wonsik’s sulking. He rolled his eyes, trying to sound offhand, but the words and the snark escaped his lips before he could stop himself.

“Yeah, that’s right. Why I should be there if you’re going to be there too. Think about how you have treated me and ask yourself if any friend would want to endure that forever.”

Wonsik pounced on the opportunity to defend himself and spoke up.

“Then what about Hyoggie’s friendship? Doesn’t that mean anyth-“

Taekwoon scoffed, and his gaze sharpened into a glint that shut Wonsik up.

He leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed, one foot nonchalantly crossed over the other as he peered at Wonsik. They were so close now it was a little awkward - but Wonsik stood his ground, which suited Taekwoon just fine.

He smirked.

“You can’t be serious?”

Wonsik blinked.

Taekwoon stared at him for a moment, wondering how he ever let himself be patient with Wonsik.

In a sudden pique, he realised that if he hadn’t held back all those many times when he wanted to reach out, to touch, to whisper… If he hadn’t turned an awkward moment into a joke, or let Wonsik turn away before he could be forced to acknowledge what had passed between them in so many tiny, inconsequential but ever-present moments…

If Taekwoon had just once, let himself stare, let his hand linger, let his touch be a gentle caress, his words dwindle into whispers and murmurs…

Perhaps something might have happened, something good.

Perhaps Wonsik might have turned to him, and let him do all those things. Because besides the possibility that he was just a dumbass who didn’t know his feelings, there was the very real possibility that he was afraid. And if he was afraid, then it meant that he wanted.

In that sudden pique, Taekwoon saw how much he had also been responsible for what he was blaming Wonsik for: an awkwardness between them from not acknowledging his own feelings - and he felt it fade away as he realised that he couldn’t draw the confession or the acknowledgement he wanted out of Wonsik by force, because Wonsik was either an idiot, or in denial.

He also saw that if he had already drawn the line as he had, that there was nothing left to lose. It was now or never. It was possible their friendship was shot anyway, if Wonsik didn’t make the connection himself. The only chance they had was for Taekwoon to take the lead.

And for the first time since making his ultimatum, Taekwoon felt the power was no longer in Wonsik’s hands, but his. Taekwoon had nothing left to lose. And in the end, Wonsik had come looking for him, not the other way around.

He perused Wonsik’s confused face, taking in the baby-eyed pout that was such a contrast to the power and bulk of the body attached to it. He waited til Wonsik noticed that Taekwoon was eyeing him.

Wonsik cleared his throat and swallowed. “What?”

Still leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, Taekwoon ducked his head to look closer at Wonsik, almost conspirationally.

“Didn’t you ever wonder what it would be like?”

“What?”

“If we just fell into it. Instead of pretending it didn’t exist.”

Wonsik was about to speak, but Taekwoon didn’t want him to distract or change the tone.

“There were so many times when I would put my arm around you, just because it felt good. It felt natural. The situation called for it. But you would shrug me off.”

Wonsik blinked. “Maybe it was just too much, Hyung.”

“But just a moment later you would be hanging off Jaehwannie.”

“So?”

“So I thought maybe you and he…”

Wonsik shifted his feet, transferring his weight from one to the other.

“But then I realised that he never reciprocated. It wasn’t mutual. It was all you. He never had his arm around anyone’s neck.”

“What has this got to do with anything?”

“Maybe it was unrequited or something. Maybe you really wanted something more from him. But then, why would you still be antagonised by me? It just made me think you were trying to make a point. That you could with anyone, but not with me. Jaehwan didn’t respond to you the way I would have if it were me, so he wasn’t a threat to you. Which is why I am wondering, what would it have been like if something was different?”

“Different?” Wonsik asked, a frown creasing his brow.

Taekwoon stared softly at Wonsik, who found he could not avoid looking him back. Taekwoon realised that, after this, he might never really have Wonsik’s attention in this way. He might not ever have even this intimacy with him again.

He wanted to take in his face, his beauty. His skin, thin and clear and honeyed, the planes of his cheekbones, the fine, strong arch of his nose, his mouth dewy and pink, the top lip protruding just a little over his slight overbite, his eyes both soft and belligerent as they stared at him.

Taekwoon could see that Wonsik knew what was coming, and that at least his instincts gave him comprehension - that there was an intimacy that was already drawing them together, a quiet pull drawing on them in their conversation, a force that was generated from Taekwoon’s desire to ultimately make this connection happen.

“What if when I touched you…” Taekwoon gently, quickly, raised a hand to Wonsik’s cheek, softly cupping it as he stared unblinkingly into his eyes, “You let me?”

Taekwoon cocked his head softly, letting his gaze drop to Wonsik’s mouth.

“Or if I held you…” Taekwoon let his hand smooth over Wonsik’s ear and his fingers thread through his hair til he reached the back of his head. “And you just let me.”

Taekwoon couldn’t help a feeling of sadness surge through him, sadness that only now, probably on the cusp of Wonsik turning away for good, he had found the courage to do this, to touch him, hold him. Tears welled in his eyes. He pulled his hand away and wiped away his tears quickly before crossing his arms again, looking down between them and sniffing.

“And if after you let me, if you didn’t like it, you could have just said so. And we wouldn’t have wasted so much time just… dancing around this nothing.”

Taekwoon couldn’t look up at Wonsik, tears were still blurring his sight, and he found himself repeatedly wiping away tears, which would wet his fingers when he pressed at the corner of his eyes.

Finally, Taekwoon could see clearly, and he saw Wonsik’s hands, by his sides, his wrists turning minutely for a moment, as if he was going to gesture with them, or reach for him.

Taekwoon looked up, knowing he was red-eyed, blustery, his arms crossed tightly as he still leaned against the wall by the door jamb.

“Would it have been so bad? We were already friends. Already-“

Taekwoon gestured with his hand, and was surprised to see Wonsik reach for it and grasp it.

Wonsik’s eyes dropped to Taekwoon’s mouth, and then he reached up with his other hand to cup Taekwoon’s cheek. Taekwoon felt his breath hitch, his heart skipping in a moment of euphoric happiness as Wonsik clutched his hand to his chest and tucked himself closer into Taekwoon’s body, his expression a mix of concern, and desire.

“Why do I make you cry,” Wonsik murmured, his breath warm and minty, his mouth suddenly too close. His eyes, tired and dewy and concerned, frowning as he stared at Taekwoon’s lips - and then he was kissing him, and holding his face in both hands as he delved his tongue between his lips and moaned gently.

Taekwoon’s surprised was quickly subsumed by the pleasure that was the soft enveloping of Wonsik’s pretty, wet lips, heated and sucking, as their tongues, soft and hot, delved and twined and tasted each other.

Taekwoon could hear Wonsik’s breath deepening, and sensed him melting into his hold, and it was a revisiting of that moment on stage - but instead of the crowd and the high emotions and the significance of the stage, there was just heartbeats and quiet and the soft catching of their breaths as they kissed. He noted that his tears had subsided, and instead of the rush of emotion he imagined he should feel after finally having Wonsik turn to him like this, instead he just felt the sharp heat of physical arousal and stimulation.

He wasn’t overwhelmed with happiness or joy, but rather, was consumed by an inordinate desire to fuck Wonsik’s apology out of him.

Wonsik leaned in closer, and Taekwoon had to take a step back into the house to balance himself against the wall, and they stumbled over the threshold inside. Taekwoon heard the door slam shut, and felt Wonsik walk him backwards a little until his back hit the wall.

Wonsik broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against Taekwoon’s for a moment, before pulling back a little, his eyes staring steadfastly at Taekwoon’s mouth.

Taekwoon thought he might say something, but instead he bent his head again and leaned in for a deep, grinding kiss. Taekwoon could feel Wonsik’s cock, hard in his pants, as he tucked himself into Taekwoon’s body again.

Wonsik let go of him to put his hands on the wall behind him, opening his legs to stand them on the outside of Taekwoon’s, bending his knees a little so that he could slowly, sensuously, fuck his hard cock up against Taekwoon’s crotch. Taekwoon moaned, letting his hands stroke down over his back, till he reached his ass, which was working slow and hard against his body.

Wonsik’s breath became laboured as he let himself make sounds that Taekwoon had only ever heard suggestions of during his raps in their songs. They were like drawn out, soft, breathy grunts, guttural, strained with desire. Wonsik broke the kiss to bow his head and mouth into his neck, his body still bucking against him, holding him tight so that he could grind against him urgently.

Those sounds heightened Taekwoon's arousal so sharply, he felt consumed by it.

Coming up for air, Taekwoon leaned his head against the wall, suspecting that he wasn’t feeling emotional about this because he believed that a part of Wonsik’s sudden letting go was really an evasive action, to avoid talking about the issue whilst acknowledging it at the same time.

Wonsik had the feelings, he had the desire, but he couldn’t acknowledge them with words or articulate how he felt. It was almost as if kissing or fucking was the compromise he needed between actually verbalising his desire, verbalising that which Taekwoon had sought him out to do - and not having to do it at all, because… fucking.

Taekwoon was burning, his body was positively incandescent with desire - but he wasn’t going to let Wonsik get off, neither physically nor figuratively. He wasn’t off the hook - and if he couldn’t do what Taekwoon wanted, then Taekwoon wanted him to pay his way to compromise. To completion.

He was going to extract every word he wanted to hear from him, before the night was over.

“So then… you _do_ want to fuck me?” he whispered into Wonsik’s ear. Wonsik groaned, his bucking momentarily losing its rhythm.

“Did you always want to fuck me?” Taekwoon reached up to grab his head by the hair, pulling sharply on it so that Wonsik would look at him. Wonsik gasped, a mixture of contrition and pain on his face.

“Or would you just do anything to avoid confessing?” Taekwoon let the moment draw out, letting Wonsik feel the discomfiture, his hair in a painful grip, their proximity screaming the truth that, if you’re right up against something, you can’t really see it in its entirety.

Taekwoon reached between them with one hand and tugged at Wonsik’s belt. As he spoke he let the resentment over what he realised had been years of constant rejection, sour the tone of his voice.

“If I had had the courage to do this back then, would Wonsik, who made everything miserable between us, Wonsik who couldn’t bear to look at me sometimes - would he have tried to kiss me and fuck me through my pants like you did just now?”

Taekwoon let go of Wonsik’s hair so that he could work at undoing his belt faster. Wonsik gasped, squeezing his eyes shut and bowing his head as Taekwoon tugged at him.

“You’re so… so,” he whispered, breathless.

”Bitter?” Taekwoon said, staring balefully at Wonsik’s still-closed eyes as his fingers worked on undoing his fly. “You’re a man who knows what he wants, so it makes me wonder…” Taekwoon said as he reached his hand in and looked down in heated realisation. Wonsik wasn’t wearing underwear and the head of his engorged cock was already weeping, wet.

“Why, if you wanted me, did you let it get to the point when I had to threaten not to come to Hyoggie’s housewarming?” he asked, his breath catching as he watched Wonsik’s body respond to his touch.

Wonsik moaned, whining and bucking his hips, as Taekwoon’s hand cupped his balls and then slid up and gripped his dick tight as he formed a fist around his girth and brought it up to the head to squeeze the precome out onto his fingers.

“You just fucking with me, Shikkie? You jealous of Hyuk or something?”

“No,” Wonsik’s frown deepened as he shook his head. “I’m-I’m s-sorry-“

“What are you sorry for?” Taekwoon asked, his hand jerking Wonsik’s cock urgently, his knuckles rubbing along the skin of Wonsik’s lower belly, his own cock beginning to hurt as it tightened, constrained by the fly of his own pants. He watched as Wonsik’s cock slowly became moistened by the precome he was spreading as he worked, his breath hissing through his teeth as the head, purple and tight, peeked through the top of his fist every time he reached it.

“Sorry for never letting me get close?” he threw out flippantly, leaning forward to spit onto the tip of Wonsik’s cock. Wonsik gasped as the sudden lubricated slide of Taekwoon’s hand made his body tighten and his cock pulse hard in his grip.

“Sorry for keeping me at arm’s length, even as a friend?” he gritted, watching his face as Wonsik moaned so hard he looked like he was in pain.

“Sorry for wanting me, knowing I wanted you, and never fucking letting me in on it?’ Taekwoon’s tone changed, became harsh as Wonsik gripped his arms with both hands, his knees buckling a little as he thrust into Taekwoon’s fist, whimpering tightly as his climax seemed to be upon him.

“Sorry for waiting til I drew the line, only to come whining about not knowing what the fuck you want?!” Taekwoon let his voice rise, his grip on Wonsik become uncomfortably tight.

Wonsik gasped out loud, his head thrown back as he squeezed his eyes shut. He was there, Taekwoon could feel his body preparing for release, could see in his face as Wonsik's mouth fell open and he began to catch his breath. Taekwoon squeezed tighter, trying to stop his grip from become a pinch, wanting Wonsik to come upon his orgasm aggressively, desperately.

Before it became too painful, Taekwoon let his cock go.

Wonsik’s eyes opened in disbelief and betrayal, his powerful climax upon him but not quite, the build up enough to feel like the waves were coming crashing, but the sudden stop abrupt enough to kill the pleasure, and he swayed against Taekwoon, groaning, while his cock spat out dribbles of come, trailing hotly down its length.

“Fuck!” he whispered hoarsely, breathless, his body shuddering over an empty climax. He sobbed, a heartfelt disappointment. He lifted his head, his body still coming down and shuddering, almost in pain, and his face was a contortion of ragged, agonised interruption.

Taekwoon could have crooned with the satisfaction of seeing Wonsik like this - and deep within it did satisfy him immensely to extract this retribution - but his celebration was dimmed by the knowledge that Wonsik had put himself in this position, had come to Taekwoon, and could have walked away at any point - but hadn’t.

It both tugged at his conscience and pulled on his heartstrings. Wonsik was trying, and doing so under the impression of himself as blind and uncomprehending. He had stepped into the abyss trying to reach for Taekwoon, because there was something that was keeping him from hurting Taekwoon further.

In that moment when Taekwoon had finally wrenched this ruined pleasure from Wonsik’s body, he had felt his own heart wrench from how pitiful he had made Wonsik’s desire to bridge the gap between them by spelling everything out for him, when he wasn’t ready to do so himself.

He had also felt his arousal spike, knowing that he wanted more from this. And, despite his sorry feelings, the satisfaction of making Wonsik suffer this way was real.

“So what are you sorry for, Wonsik?” he asked softly, leaning back against the wall as he watched Wonsik catch his breath.

Wonsik straightened up a little, his head bowed, his hands still gripping Taekwoon's arms. Tears streaked the sides of his face, his expression forlorn and exhausted. He swallowed, his eyes closing for a long moment before he took a deep breath and spoke, his voice whispery soft, but clear.

“I made you suffer for so long, Hyung,” he finally said, lifting his head to meet Taekwoon’s eyes.

Taekwoon held his gaze, his eyes reddening with tears. He leaned his head back and looked up, trying to get them to subside.

Wonsik reached for him, one hand lightly grasping his.

“I’m sorry...I- I’m sorry…” Taekwoon could hear sadness and regret in Wonsik’s voice, but also the frustration of not being able to articulate what he had to say.

He felt Wonsik step closer to him, taking his other hand in his. He could sense Wonsik watching him, so very close, his breath soft on the skin of his neck, he was so close.

“Hyung… can you say the words? Say them. Please,” he heard him murmur.

Taekwoon swallowed, not sure how to start.

Wonsik stepped even closer, til he was pressing his body against Taekwoon’s, one leg slipping between his, his nose sliding softly against the skin of his jawline, his warm lips fluttering over his neck as he spoke.

“I’m sorry…” he whispered.

Taekwoon sighed, feeling a deep contentment in his body as Wonsik put his weight on him, weight that was comforting, making him feel secure, held tight, held fast.

“I’m sorry-“

“That it took you so long to realise I wanted you?” Taekwoon gasped, his hands reaching round Wonsik’s body to pull on his ass as he sank down so that his cock rubbed hard against the thigh that was between his legs.

“Yes,” Wonsik breathed, relief in his voice as he turned to mouth properly at Taekwoon’s neck.

“That you wanted me too but didn’t want me to know?” Taekwoon gasped as Wonsik’s tongue snaked out and licked a long line up under his ear til his lips found his earlobe, and he sucked on it.

“Yeah,” Wonsik sighed, hisjaw working as he licked and mouthed at the juncture of Taekwoon’s jaw and neck.

“That you were too proud to let me be the one to initiate anything so you just let whatever was between us rot?” Taekwoon;s voice quavered, making Wonsik stop, breathless, his head still bowed and hidden in Taekwoon’s neck.

Taekwoon stilled, emotions high and ready to come spilling if Wonsik didn’t rise up to meet him this time.

Wonsik pulled away, looking up at Taekwoon with sobriety in his eyes.

Taekwoon looked at him, letting years of yearning and restraint and always feeling the sting of having put himself out there, only to have to pull back for fear of spoiling whatever fragile thing they had between them, show in his eyes.

“That you could only look at me with contempt or disdain or disregard? I would have been happy with just being friends, Shikkie, but you punished me by withdrawing even your friendship. You made me feel foolish and unwanted. Unloveable. It might have been better if you had just told me to fuck off.”

Wonsik’s face crumpled, his eyes filling with tears and his mouth a grimace of remorse. He quickly lifted his hands to his face, covering himself as he tried to tamp down his choked sobs. He retched, surprising himself, and his eyes opened in a sudden fear as he gasped to try to clear the tightness in his throat.

Taekwoon could see he was aghast by the reality of Taekwoon’s experience of him, but Taekwoon simply could not feel for him anymore.

His own hurt, having finally been articulated even if it wasn’t by Wonsik, hung in the air between them like a covenant. A covenant not of promise, but of mutual denial.

And while it was hurting Wonsik, Taekwoon finally, finally, felt free.

And while Wonsik was dealing with the enormity of the hurt he had caused Taekwoon, Taekwoon was dealing with his continuing, burgeoning desire to climax in Wonsik’s hands.

Or mouth.

Or… Whatever Wonsik might still be prepared to do with him, now that he was in his state, Taekwoon was up for it. Because he wasn’t sure he could wait any longer for Wonsik to get himself together.

Again, the thought that he didn’t deserve to be made to wait any longer, gave him the impetus to just go for what he wanted.

“I’ll go to Hyoggie’s thing if you stop crying,” Taekwoon sighed, giving Wonsik a look that was tired, done with it, and just a little bit wry.

Wonsik blubbered, a sudden laugh bursting through his tears that turned into another sob. He was laughing and crying, and he raised a hand to his face to cover his eyes as he gasped.

“This is so fucking weird,” Taekwoon intoned, his hands reaching for Wonsik, pulling on his hand so that he would look at him. They stared at each other, each with their different pain.

Wonsik blinked, before he dropped his gaze.

“It’s all true. I’m sorry, Hyung, I really am,” he sniffled.

“I’m just too tired to care about it any more, Shikkie. All I care about is what happens now. Here. You can tell me no. Please do, if that is what you want. But right now, I just want your hands on me. I want you to let me have what I wanted. And I want you to take what you never thought you wanted from me. I don’t want to think, I just want to do. Have done to me. Just… make me forget.”

Taekwoon saw something galvanise Wonsik, a change in the way he looked at him. It was as if he had been given directions and now could see the way forward. He now had a way that he could make it up to him, even if it was just for a few moments, just to forget.

He waited as Wonsik’s gaze softened, his eyes dropping to watch Taekwoon’s cheek as he lifted his hand to wipe away drying tears with his thumb. He sniffed as he did the same on the other cheek, his hand lingering to cup his face, his thumb finding its way to the corner of his mouth.

He watched, entranced, as his thumb came to lay gently on Taekwoon’s lower lip, brushing softly outwards to watch it move, plump and red and wet, under the pressure. Then he moved it to the centre again, the tip of it pressing up against the underside of his upper lip, the soft bud of its centre moving with him, exposing his teeth, and his tongue between.

Taekwoon’s jaw dropped softly, so that his mouth was open, lax, beautiful and waiting.

Wonsik looked up, to see Taekwoon’s eyes heavy with desire, looking breathless with his mouth open and wet, his tongue curling a little as it ran along the tips of his teeth.

Wonsik bent and took his lower lip between his and sucked gently, drawing back to lick at his tongue, then finally kissing him deep and soft, gentle and sucking.

Taekwoon moaned, his breaths soft and contented as he kissed back, as if he was drinking the juice from a soft fruit, lapping and mouthing at Wonsik, whose hands had shifted to behind his neck and behind his waist, corkscrewing their bodies around each other as they leaned into the kiss.

He sighed as Wonsik pulled away to trail kisses down his neck. He pulled up his tee shirt and bent to lick at his nipple, making Taekwoon’s torso contract with the pleasure, and shudder and buck against him as he laved it and let the tips of his teeth scrape against it.

Taekwoon keened, his voice a breathy wail as his knees buckled and he threw his head back against the wall, his mouth agape with the sensation. Wonsik straightened up, his mouth finding a spot to fit perfectly where his neck met his shoulder, and sucking juicily on his skin, his tongue working and creating suction there, both hands slipping up under his tee to circle and softly pinch his nipples.

“Aaaah!” he cried, his weight landing heavy on Wonsik’s bent leg, which he began to hump gently, rubbing his too-long unspent cock against the hard line of Wonsik’s thigh muscle. The stimulation seemed to form a triangle of connected lines of pleasure between his nipples and his cock, each heightening the sensation of the other, until he could feel himself about to pulsate into a powerful orgasm.

His voice became ragged as he moaned on every buck of his hips, his mouth going lax, his body reaching for completion, his mind already reaching bliss.

But then Wonsik pulled his hands away to unbutton his jeans, straightening up and taking away that sweet pressure between Taekwoon’s legs.

“No, noo!” Taekwoon wailed, his come-ready, rigid body softening in the harsh disappointment.

“Fuck!” Taekwoon’s hands grabbed Wonsik’s arms as they worked to open his jeans. “You petty motherfucker, why!”

Wonsik huffed in amusement, finally opening his jeans and yanking them down as he got on his knees and pulled Taekwoon’s reddened, engorged cock into his hot, velvety mouth.

Taekwoon bent over, his whining unmitigated by the pleasure of feeling himself engulfed in the heat of Wonsik’s mouth and the hardening suction of his tongue. He grabbed Wonsik’s head, and for a few moments fucked deeply into his mouth, bending his knees as he cradled his head between his legs, and letting himself brace against the wall behind him.

He couldn’t help vocalising his deep pleasure, his breaths sounding with every stroke as Wonsik worked his mouth up and down Taekwoon’s cock.

“Don’t stop, please don’t. Let me come in your mouth, let me fuck your mouth, please, Shikkie, please-“

Wonsik moaned, working faster as he grasped Taekwoon’s hips and felt them stuttering in their rhythm as Taekwoon began to orgasm.

“Oh, aaah, AAAH!” he cried, his mouth opening in a wail as the pleasure changed, went from climbing and building and stirring, to surging and flooding and breaking. He changed his grip, moving his hands from Wonsik's cheeks to his hair, one on top of his head aggressive and harsh as he pumped his head up and down his thrusting shaft.

His orgasm was blinding, loud and shatteringly complete, and he felt his body softening and folding with replete satisfaction. Wonsik let his cock go with a loud slurp, swallowing as they looked at each other, Taekwoon slipping down to his knees and falling forward into Wonsik’s arms. Wonsik let momentum carry them softly to the floor, where he cradled Taekwoon against him as he stretched out along the length of his body. He lay on his side against Wonsik, so that he could put Wonsik’s thigh between his, and softly ground against it, indulging the throbbing sensations of pleasure that coursed through his body.

He was still loudly sighing, “Hmmm, mmhmm,” vocalising seemingly making the pleasure last longer.

“Oh, baby, fuck. That was so good, so fucking good,” he whisper-moaned, his mouth against the rise of Wonsik’s pectoral muscle as he lay cradled with his head in the crook of his shoulder.

“We’re not done yet,” Wonsik rumbled, trying to look down at Taekwoon. Taekwoon looked up at him, his eyes bright again, with anticipation. Wonsik laughed, shifting so that he could lie on his side, facing Taekwoon.

“I suppose I owe you an orgasm,” Taekwoon sighed, suddenly aware that he had no pants on and that Wonsik was still fully clothed with his fly open. It would not do. He pulled off his tee, stripping completely, then pulled on Wonsik’s top so that he had to raise his arms to let Taekwoon slip it past his head. Then he turned to face him, slipping one hand down the back of his pants so that he could hold the flesh of his ass, bringing their pelvises flush together. Taekwoon looked down at Wonsik as he braced his weight on his elbow.

“Let’s take turns fucking each other in the bedroom,” he said brightly, making Wonsik laugh. Taekwoon loved seeing him laugh so freely, the tiny lines at the corners of his eyes, and the clear merriment in his laughter. He bent to inhale at Wonsik's neck, kissing and nipping at him there.

“You can go first, Shikkie, I don’t mind,” he continued, sounding fresh and happy and light. He lifted his head a little, to find Wonsik sobering, his eyes clear and gentle.

“Hyung, a minute ago I realised just how shitty I made you feel,” Wonsik rumbled, his voice gravelly and soft, inhaling gently near Taekwoon’s mouth as his nose drew a soft line across Taekwoon’s cheek.

Taekwoon turned toward his mouth and kissed him wetly, tasting himself on Wonsik’s tongue. He pulled back as he gave him one final lick to look him in the eye. Wonsik looked soft and horny.

“A moment that made me feel infinitely better, baby,” he purred, loving that Wonsik could find it in him to laugh, abashed and amused at his irreverent tone.

Taekwoon watched as the smile turned into something else, a soft perusal filled with what looked like relief, and regret.

“I didn’t want to care for you like that. I didn’t want anyone to know. I was so bad to you,” Wonsik murmured, his brow furrowed.

Taekwoon didn’t want to hear anymore. It was a revisiting of sadness and pain that he had already gotten over. He understood that Wonsik had to process it too, but as far as Taekwoon was concerned he was a great multitasker, and therefore could handle dealing with his guilt and regret in tandem with continuing their encounter in a more comfortable location.

He sighed dramatically.

“Me too, I was so bad to you, you must be sore and in dire need of relief,” he murmured, staring fixedly down at Wonsik's cock, which was still hard despite having emptied so unsatisfactorily earlier.

He took his weight off Wonsik, shifting down to tug on his jeans and pull them off. He put a gentle hand around the base of Wonsik's cock, thinking that it looked bruised, just too purple. He realised it could just be his guilt making him think that as he gently started massaging the base of his it. He looked up at Wonsik, concerned.

"Did it hurt?" he asked softly. Wonsik shook his head a little, as he gazed softly back at him.

"In your heart maybe," Taekwoon said, amusement playing on his lips. Wonsik nodded, his gaze still unwavering.

"Like in mine," Taekwoon whispered, his hand moving a little faster, gripping a little tighter. Wonsik's eyes rolled back in his head and he arched his back, thrusting slow and strong up into Taekwoon's fist.

"Hyung," he sighed, opening his eyes as he continued to fuck Taekwoon's fist slowly. Taekwoon's mouth opened unconsciously as he stared at Wonsik's expression of pleasure.

"Hmm?" he managed to breathe.

"Suck me," Wonsik's voice was plaintive, but it wasn't a request.

Taekwoon didn't hesitate, he bent and stretched his mouth over Wonsik's cock, following the fingers he had around its girth down as far as he could without gagging, and letting his lips and tongue create suction around it.

Wonsik moaned, his body tensing, his hands scrabbling to find purchase on Taekwoon's arms, then sighing with relief as Taekwoon finally starting moving, winding his tongue around and under and up to the tip, and starting a steady rhythm that Wonsik could match with his gentle thrusting.

Taekwoon let his saliva pool, using his tongue to spread it and gather it and dribble down over his balls, which he reached for and massaged as his mouth worked. He felt Wonsik's hands move from his arms to his head, both of them holding him just where his jaw was working, his fingers caressing the curve of his ear, the skin on his neck, the hair at his temples.

Taekwoon moaned, and he couldn't help arching his back, wishing that he could have Wonsik fill his ass with his cock, have him pound into him, have him take his fill of him. 

He could feel himself softening, his body yearning for a certain touch, hard, needy and urgent, and the thought of having Wonsik use his body in desperate need made him reach between his legs to jerk himself frantically, turning his sounds urgent and hoarse. He imagined Wonsik pulling on his body as he fucked him hard, trying to get closer, deeper, trying to fuck him through, to completion, and it made his arousal spike hard.

"Fuck, Hyung," he heard Wonsik gasp, then felt his hips begin to stutter in their rhythm. "Unnnh... UNNGHH... I'm gonna come. Hyung, I'm coming. I'm COMING!"

Taekwoon relaxed his jaw and swallowed Wonsik's cock down to the base, feeling the tip hit the back of his throat and finding he couldn't breathe. Wonsik lost it, lost his gentleness, groaning loud and guttural as he fucked up into Taekwoon's mouth, hard, cruel and unrelenting, his legs stiffening as his back arched his body clean off the floor.

Strings of come jetted into the back of Taekwoon's throat, slopping out of his mouth and making a mess, til Wonsik let his grip on him loosen, letting him take a spluttering breath. Taekwoon swallowed around Wonsik's cock as he slowed his thrusts, causing him to shudder violently as he cried out, sensitive.

Wonsik was moaning loudly, his head thrashing. As he came down from his climax, his torso contracting as he tried to catch his breath, he looked down at Taekwoon, who was still mouthing at him, licking firmly and swallowing. Wonsik gripped his arms, too sensitive to take any more, and he locked eyes with Taekwoon as he sat up, eyes red and tearing, and wiped his mouth as he swallowed one last time.

Wonsik let him go, his arms flopping to his sides and his head lolling as he shut his eyes and slowly caught his breath.

He felt Taekwoon crawl back up to him, and flop down onto the floor beside him.

Taekwoon took his hand, and brought it up to kiss it, laying himself comfortably against Wonsik's side and slipping his leg between his. Wonsik opened his eyes and turned to face him, so that they rested their held hands on his chest. Their energy had turned calm, Wonsik thoroughly satiated, and Taekwoon warmed from having brought him to completion.

"Thank you Shikkie," he murmured, lifting his head to look into his eyes, which were still bright from the vigour of his climax.

"Taekwoonnie," Wonsik murmured, his eyes growing haunted.

"No, let's not be sad. I don't want to feel that any more. I just want to feel good. This felt good, didn't it?" Wonsik nodded. Taekwoon smiled.

"I want to do it again. Is that okay?" he asked.

Wonsik nodded. Then he hesitated a moment.

"So... we'll take turns?" Wonsik asked, sounding like it wasn't something he had considered.

Taekwoon smiled, answering with great passion.

"Yes. First you can do me. Then I can do you with your sweater on."

Wonsik laughed out loud, his amusement both disbelieving and light, and it heartened Taekwoon to sense that he wasn't entirely averse to it.

"Are you busy Sunday?" he asked, a twinkle in his eye.

Wonsik thought as he slowed his laughter, then frowned.

"Hyoggie's housewarming is on Sunday," he said. 

"Dammit! Well, maybe he won't mind," Taekwoon said.

Wonsik's eyes nearly popped out of his head as he looked at Taekwoon in disbelief.

"I know, I'm so bad. I should be taught a lesson," Taekwoon said, ducking down as if to hide from Wonsik's glare.

Wonsik turned towards him, his glare turning menacing, amusement threatening to break through. Taekwoon gasped as he felt a hand slide over the skin on his hip, and round to his ass, where Wonsik gripped him hard, his nails digging into his flesh.

"So, so bad."


End file.
